


boys' night in

by Siriusstuff



Series: Teodor Claudius Talan Stilinski-Hale [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (not much about the kid though), Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Parenthood, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, some domestic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:29:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusstuff/pseuds/Siriusstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gift of a night out becomes the gift of a night in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	boys' night in

**Author's Note:**

> I'm losing track of the chronology in this series, but I think events in this ficlet would fall between those of number 7 and number 1...

“So, how about you hand over my grandson and you— _leave_.”

The Sheriff addressed Stiles, his tone exactly what patience sounds like after more than two decades of being sorely tested.

“I’m going to,” Stiles replied, laying kiss after kiss on his baby’s face. “This is our first time apart.” Kiss. “It’s momentous.” Kiss. “I’m preparing myself.” Kiss.

“It’s _not_ your first time apart, Stiles. You’ve left him with me when you’ve gone shop—”

“Those were necessary occasions!—This is voluntary—no, _not_ voluntary—You’re _making_ me and Derek go out and leave him!”

Melissa, in the background till then, stepped forward, to the sheriff’s side. “Stiles,” she spoke gently, “your parental devotion is—”

“Extreme,” the Sheriff injected.

Stiles smirked at his father.

“ _Extraordinary_ ,” Melissa corrected. “You haven’t been apart from Teo for the entire first six months of his life. We figured you and Derek deserve a little break by now, an evening to yourselves. This is good for—”

“Alright!—As long as you both admit you— _mind-controlled_ me into agreeing to this!”

Stiles sounded a hundred percent rational.

“Stiles,” Derek finally chimed in. “It’ll be alright.”

“Pfft!” Stiles retorted. “You’re just kissing his—” _ass_ he spoke silently—baby present, after all—“for who knows what reason!”

Derek took Teo from Stiles’s arms into his own. Prepared with a napkin, he gently removed Teo’s fist from his mouth, dried the baby’s fingers, dabbed away the drool from his chin and handed him a donut-shaped rattle. Which went right into Teo’s mouth.

Then Derek began the kissing ritual.

“Great,” the Sheriff, who’d thought he’d found an ally, sighed. “Now the other one’s got him.”

Stiles stood, joined his husband in solidarity.

“It doesn’t ease your mind to know you’re entrusting your child to a licensed medical caregiver,” the Sheriff nodded toward Melissa, “and an officer of the law, who’s got a firearm—”

“That’s right!” Stiles cut in. “There’s a gun in this house!—”

The Sheriff cut right back in, narrating. “—And obviously Teo’s going to crawl into my closet, climb to the shelf with the gun safe, crack the combination, load the gun and start firing away—”

“Don’t even _say_ that!” Stiles all but shrieked. “And now he knows where your gun is!”

 _That_ outburst at last moved Derek to release his son to his father-in-law. Then he wrapped an arm around Stiles’s shoulders.

With genuine gladness John held his grandson close.

“Hey there, kiddo. _You’re_ happy to stay with your big poppa, right?”

Teo’s response was to jam his drooly rattle against his big poppa’s cheek.

“No thank you.” John redirected the toy back to Teo’s mouth. “That’s for you.”

“OK, you sure you have the number for the restaurant?” Stiles asked. In case both his and Derek’s phones died or something— _that’s_ why.

John held up his phone to show Stiles both the restaurant’s name, _Appiani’s_ , and its phone number.

“OK,” Stiles exhaled, miserably.

Melissa, assuring and soothing, escorted the two dads to the front door, John staying behind in the belief that keeping their son out of sight would facilitate their departure.

But, “Bye-bye, baby boy!” Stiles cried at the doorway. “Papa loves you!”

“Bye, Papa!” came a high-pitched strange voice from the kitchen. “Go enjoy dinner with Daddy!”

“Weird old man,” Stiles grumbled to Derek as they walked to their car.

“So glad _you’re_ not like that,” Derek grinned.

“Listen, ass, your zen exterior does _not_ fool me.”

“’Ass,’” Derek repeated, slowly, like he was pondering the word.

“Yes, _ass_ ,” Stiles re-repeated. Then, as if the proverbial light bulb had lit up above his head: ” _Oh_.”

Expression altering, eyes wide, Stiles proposed, ”For our first night to ourselves in six months—want to go home and ass-fuck each other silly?”

Stiles knew the two second pause before Derek answered indicated just how tempted he was by the suggestion.

For Stiles the temptation was already a runaway train.

It wasn’t non-stop parenting making him a nut-job; it was long-term sexual frustration.

“But Melissa seems so invested in finding out how we like this restaurant,” Derek, truly the honorable soul, pointed out.

“I love Melissa too,” Stiles declared, “but let her live vicariously through Scott and Isaac!—And it’s not even eight yet, Derek. We can still fuck our brains out and get to the damn restaurant for dinner.”

“So, just another quickie?” Derek countered.

“’Quickie’?—We can get _naked_ , Derek. We can get _loud_ , Derek.—Do you know how long it’s been since the last time I heard you desperately call out my name?—If we had chandeliers we could swing from them!—We have six months of pent-up _wild itchy gnawing sex hunger_ that hand jobs and bj’s and occasional standing-up fucks in the shower have done _nada_ to satisfy—”

“Sounds like there’s going to be a lot of—”

“No matter how you plan to finish that sentence” Stiles interrupted, “I guarantee you it’s _not_ an argument against us rushing back home right now and fucking like crazed chimpanzees.”

Derek _could_ have critiqued Stiles’s choice of simile, but was already so hard in his nice pants he just gunned the engine and away they drove.

From his discreet location behind a curtain, the Sheriff stood watching and waiting for the Prius to be gone. When it was, he blew out a breath in relief. He’d been sure his son or son-in-law or more likely both were going to come back in and take Teodor away with them.

“You’d think we were sending them off to war,” he said to Melissa, but Melissa, focused on the giggling baby in her lap, wasn’t really listening.

 

***

 

Totally naked, Derek lay diagonally across a corner of their bed, like he’d been thrown there. (He had.) On his knees, bare ass in the air, Stiles was bent over him, suckling Derek’s tongue when he wasn’t suckling his nipples.

It was their afterglow, though the embers still flared like live coals. Stiles had made sure they’d done at least some of what they hadn’t the chance to do since their precious bundle of joy had arrived. They’d sixty-nined, they’d banged so hard there were a few new dents in the wall behind the headboard. They’d had a naked chase through the house. Derek had caught Stiles too—but that was exactly what Stiles wanted.

In fact this was their _second_ afterglow. After the first one had reignited to full flame Stiles had got his wish: Derek moaning his name aloud while Stiles skewered his butthole with frenzied pistoning.

Now Stiles climbed atop Derek, and they kissed hungrily still.

“Get hard again and I’ll ride you,” he told Derek. And that’s what Derek did and that’s what Stiles did.

Afterwards they _were_ famished, but for food only. Following a quick shower and putting back on the clothes they’d managed somehow not to just fling to the floor when they’d shed them, they both looked presentable enough. But a quandary remained.

“We can pick up Tay and then get some take-out.—Or I can make us some hearty omelets when we get back home,” Stiles advised, munching a cookie.

Derek looked genuinely troubled. “I really don’t like lying to John and Melissa.”

“They wanted us to enjoy our night, didn’t they?—And we certainly did enjoy our night, didn’t we?—Isn’t sex on the list of basic human needs, right after food and shelter?”

“ _Is_ it?” Derek truly wondered.

“Well, for you and me it is!—So, just follow my lead. I used to be a good liar—until I met a certain werewolf who could hear heartbeats!”

Sure enough Derek heard no hitch from Stiles’s heart as he spoke those words.

More than three hours after driving away from the house he’d grown up in, Stiles was parking in front of it again, Derek the passenger this time.

“Tay’s awake,” Derek announced. “He probably heard the car. His heartbeat’s picking up.”

“Let’s get in there,” Stiles insisted.

Soon as he was outside the car, “Hey, baby boy. Papa and Daddy are back,” Stiles broadcast into the night air, though at perfectly conversational level.

The Sheriff opened the door before they knocked. He stood still a minute and took in the sight of them. It made Stiles feel a _little_ anxious, since he knew too well his dad’s powers of sniffing out lies—though quite fortunately his sniffing powers extended not much farther than that.

Without doubt they appeared significantly more at ease upon their return than when they’d departed.

“Well, look who survived a night away from their offspring,” the Sheriff said snidely.

Derek grinned in return but soon as he was past the Sheriff just walked on to the room that had become Teo’s, which had formerly been a kind of catch-all storage room. Derek had patched the walls, repainted them, installed better lighting, brought in a changing table, little chest of drawers and a crib he’d constructed himself.

“Kiddo’s been asleep a while,” his dad informed Stiles.

“Well, he’s awake now,” Stiles replied. He followed Derek.

Melissa, who’d been dozing on the couch, got to her feet too and joined the parade.

John saw Teo in Derek’s arms and their scenting one another’s necks.

“He _was_ asleep,” John repeated.

“He heard our car, Dad.”

“Oh,” John surmised, adding in a low voice, “Werewolf thing?”

“Werewolf thing,” Stiles confirmed.

It was Stiles’s turn for hugs and scenting then. Teo was sleepy but, even more, happy to have his fathers with him again, as he wriggled contentedly in Stiles’s embrace.

Whispering as if Teo were still sleeping, Melissa said, “You both look so mellow and relaxed now! Wasn’t it a good idea to have a night out to yourselves?”

“It was a _great_ idea, fantastic idea, the best idea,” Stiles assured. “No resistance from us next time, that’s for sure.”

“I’m dying to know,” Melissa continued, “What did you have? How was it?”

John regarded her curiously, as if he’d had no idea she was _that_ interested.

“Oh,” Stiles responded. “I had _pollo rustico_ , with red potatoes, artichokes, roasted peppers, in a white wine tomato sauce—oh, and with caramelized shallots, too!”

“That sounds _delicious_!” Melissa nearly squealed.

“Derek had prime rib with horseradish crust, potatoes au gratin and sautéed broccoli rabe.”

“You’re making me so hungry!”

“Want to know our dessert?” Stiles teased.

“Please!”

“ _Panna cotta_ topped with chocolate liqueur and fresh raspberries.”

“Oh my god—” Melissa had her hand to her heart.

“Mel—” the Sheriff questioned. “Why haven’t you—?”

“Oh, everyone’s talking about _Appiani’s_ , John!”

“Tell you what,” Derek declared, choosing to be one with his mate in their ruse. “Next time, _my_ mom and dad will be happy to watch Tay, and the four of us will go.”

“Our treat!” Stiles threw in.

The Sheriff continued to look like he didn’t know exactly what was happening.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed yourselves then,” he said, bringing the topic round to something he _thought_ he had figured out.

“We _really_ did, Dad.”

“You see your old man still knows what’s good for you, kiddo.”

“You have _no idea_ , Dad.”

Realizing he’d better get them out of there before Stiles blew it and started giggling, Derek got Teo in his coat and wrapped in a blanket. Goodnight hugs and kisses were exchanged. The Sheriff saw them to the door with one last goodnight.

In the car, Teo secured in his seat, Stiles behind the wheel, Derek sighed in relief.

“You really are a good liar, Stiles,” he concluded as they made their way back home.

“I just memorized entrees I thought we’d have ordered,” Stiles confessed. “And I wasn’t lying; I was _acting_. Actors play out alternate realities. They perform fictions to entertain. Melissa was happy.”

Derek’s mouth opened, but debate seemed pointless. He’d “performed” too.

“Your dad smelled—I don’t know, a little odd.”

“That’s that cop’s sixth sense, never without suspicion.—Don’t worry. He may suspect but he has _no evidence_!”

“We’ll make it up to them both.”

“Speaking of food—?”

“Let’s get Tay back to bed. We can scrounge up something at home.”

At the end of their long evening, food in their bellies, baby in his own bed, lights out, Stiles and Derek lay together.

“I have a philosophical pronouncement,” Stiles proclaimed, albeit very quietly.

Derek had learned no reply to such a declaration was acceptable except for some variation of, “And what is that?”

“It’s got to do with satiation, sexual satiation.”

“Sounds kind of _final_ , doesn't it?” Derek observed.

“I just mean, after our sex fest tonight I feel so— _at peace_ with all things.”

“Y’know how to feel even more at peace?” Derek propounded.

“If your answer is ‘going to sleep, Stiles’ I’m _punching_ you,” Stiles warned.

“OK.”

“Your answer was ‘going to sleep,’ wasn’t it?”

“’S a philosophical discussion, Stiles. Maybe there’s _no_ answer.”

“Assssss,” Stiles hissed in a whisper.

Derek snuggled close, his face at Stiles’s throat. In between kisses he whispered back:

“Remember what happened when you said that word before.”

Satiation was definitely not final.


End file.
